


don'tcha wanna dance

by thirtysecondson



Series: Lore Olympus October Prompt Series [3]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Karaoke, mild mentions of potential masturbation, nothing horribly explicit, what am i doing anymore?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirtysecondson/pseuds/thirtysecondson
Summary: THIS IS ONLY DAY 3 OF THE OCTOBER PROMPT CHALLENGE AND I AM ALREADY FAILING:The Underworld Corp. has a group bonding exercise over karaoke. Persephone sings Whitney Houston, Hecate goads Hades into being an almost gentlemen and everyone's favorite couple mulls over relationship boundaries while literally and metaphorically dancing around one another.This is a serious exercise in writing, and yet for some reason the summary sounds like a crack piece.





	don'tcha wanna dance

Alcohol was not his friend. He was learning that little by little. More so in the past few hours than he had in years, but learning all the same. This time he hadn’t even sipped it, and still it was taunting him in pink frills and a giggle that ought to have been sweet but felt sinister to his ears. The singing he could tolerate. Hecate was in a peaceable mood, or so he’d thought, and had put the idea to him as a company outing. Hades had been distracted when he agreed, thinking she had mentioned third quarter reports, or how he was already in deep trouble with HR for Persephone’s paychecks.

“You seem troubled,” Hecate grinned at him. She seemed far too chipper, and Hades loathed her request to come to this infernal place. Especially since she had invited Persephone. Especially since she had invited Persephone and then bought shots. And put her on stage. And watched with intensely smug satisfaction and Hades blatantly stared, finally given an excuse to do so.

“I wanna dance with somebody~” The song was apt for the Goddess of Spring, sheltered for so long, that he wondered if this was her first ever karaoke night. If this was the first time she’d sung in front of people. If this was the first time her hips swayed so perfectly to the beat that she became something unparalleled. His foot tapped and Hecate’s eyes narrowed at him.

“You like her,” she half yelled in his ear, drowned out by the heavy tone of bass. He didn’t even have the nerve to be surprised. Everyone knew. They had to. He had been staring at her so openly these days, he wasn’t even bothering with excuses. Those had been pretty pitiful to start with. “Go on then, she wants to dance with somebody who loves her.”

The song had ended when he stood, a brief silence before they moved quickly into the next song. It was fast paced and obnoxious, but Persephone had squealed at it, and continued to move her hips at the throbbing sound. Hades approached quietly, catching her eye when she turned. Perse looked at him with a wide smile and contented eyes that swam with something bubbly in her system. Perhaps too much champagne, or tequila. Whatever Hecate had been pouring the girl, it had been strong and plentiful.

“I didn’t think you danced,” she yelled over the music. Whoever was singing was off key, but feeling the vibe, and Hades appreciated the commitment. Clearly his dance partner did, too. “I can be persuaded when someone sings such a request,” he sounded back, his voice not carrying well against the throb of it.

“Awwww, Hades, don’t tell me you’ve come to dance with little old me!” She answered back, shimmying against him, and bringing their bodies together. He grew warm at once, his own body so close to hers, he could feel every beat move through her hips and guiding his own. She reached for his hands and pulled them down to her hips, guiding him further as a bout of hiccups caught her off guard. She laughed into them, grinding her ass against Hades in what she imagined her mother would only deem as “lewd and unladylike behavior.”

He didn’t answer her then, only allowed his mind to drift into a horrible space, the kind of mental images that would haunt every waking memory. The swell of her lips against his skin, the smell of her sweat when she was happy or pleased, the curve of her ass in perfect symmetry. He imagined dancing with her like this in private. Without onlookers, without music massacred by karaoke, or the hindrance of alcohol in their system. Providing a comfortable barrier to reality. She could sleep this off in the morning, remember nothing of her body angled against his so perfectly, he could feel the dip in her dress that clothed the crack of her ass.

“You seem far away,” Persephone spoke, turning in his arms as the beat changed, and a new voice began a ballad. Something slow, that they could sway to. She took his hand, and they fell into position easily. As if they’d done this one thousand times, as well. Hades smiled at her, squeezing her hands once for reassurance. He didn’t want to ruin this. Didn’t want to say something horrific that he would regret in the morning. He kept his mouth shut, chewing the inside of his lip as she placed her cheek just above his stomach.

“I didn’t know you sang,” he finally replied, comfortable in their place together then, pulling himself from the dark corners of his mind. He lingered there so often these days, locking the door to his office, hiding from responsibilities and finding himself rubbing against a growing bulge in his suit trousers. Before he could drift any further, he added “quite well, by the way. Though I imagine the Goddess of Spring has more than a few hidden talents.”

“Oh, I do,” she replied too quickly, her eyes half lidded as she peered up at him from under heavy lashes. The look struck him, and just as quickly as he’d pulled himself out of his unnecessary state of defiant arousal, he was back. Imagining the same look of sin and defiance from her knees, and then from his. Hades had been getting positively sick from it, lusting after a teenager in his employ no less. Perse could see the gears turning in his head, watched as he swam through a visible shift in emotions, excitement to lust to shame, in a matter of seconds. She paused then, no longer swaying to the music, and it caused him to falter again, still all action against and near her until the two were standing motionless on the dancefloor.

“How long do you think before we stop this metaphorical dance around one another?” She asked, staring straight into a depth of blue she wasn’t sure if she could surmount yet. Hades took measure of her, as well. Looking around them, before locking his eyes back on her with an overwhelming sense of guilt. “I do believe we’ve already stopped,” he muttered back, not ready to admit to the full amount of his realization. It had been mutual then.

“You know what I mean,” she countered, still standing stock still, with their hands still held as though they were dancing. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they were just beyond caring about their antics, circling around one another in a constant need for touch and simultaneous distance.

“I don’t know,” Hades answered honestly, his hand breaking free from hers to scratch at the back of his head. They wouldn’t be having this conversation sober. Or at least, they shouldn’t be. Not here, where the smell of stale beer clung to every seat and a few hundred ears could overhear every word they spoke. “I guess I never realized you wanted it to stop.” The music started up again in that moment of high pitched sounds and technicolor lights, and off key singing, the God of the Underworld felt more alone than ever. All the money, diamonds, and free labor in the world would never win him a bride. Or love.

“I told you before, I don’t want to play games. And you don’t have to speak in metaphors to me. Hades, if you need to set better boundaries I don-” she was cut off by a slight touch to her hair, a gentle thing that pulled her off the ground. Persephone had mostly flown in anger, so this was new. She blinked at him, his eyes wider than she remembered, and sadder, too. At this height she was accessible, her lips no longer some feet away, her eyes wide and bright, not from their surrounding lights, but from the internal glow he couldn’t put a word to.

He kissed her. Just once. A quick thing that had her pink reaching new shades, and the blue of his cheeks taking on a purple hue. There was a wolf whistle from somewhere near the vicinity of their table, but neither heard it. She opened her eyes after, a bit befuddled, but not altogether unhappy.

“You know, I-I could be somebody who loves you,” the stutter almost ruined it. But she pressed her whole floating body flush against his then, wrapping slender arms around his neck in a movement so swift it left him breathless. They danced the rest of the night that way, to one trashy song after the next, with disco lights nearly blinding them both. He was certain she would forget it in the morning, and she was certain she’d never forget in her whole lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: there are no survivors. The cliff notes have helped. Bless your kind souls for comments, kudos, cookies (hopefully!) and kraft mac n' cheese, which is who I dedicate this entry to. You the real MVP mac n' cheese.


End file.
